


Day 3: Delirium

by TheDarkestShade



Series: Whumptober 2019 [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: 1920's slang is hilarious, A hard lesson that Dames never learned, Being stuck in the past, Damien should really be more careful with his words, Delirium, Egotober, For once it's not Wilford, Gen, Hallucinations, Less pining more confessing, M/M, Panic, Running Away, Whumptober 2019, Whumptober Prompt, or at least feeling like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 10:56:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkestShade/pseuds/TheDarkestShade
Summary: Dark hasn't slept well. Or at all, really.And now he's paying the price.I always see this with Wilford having some kind of lucid moment and being stuck in the past, so I decided to switch it around!I present to you: Damien who does not know why the hell, how the hell and when the hell, and is very much panicking





	Day 3: Delirium

Something was wrong with Dark, and everyone in the manor knew it. That morning he hadn't recognised any of the egos, had forgotten where he was, and had been rambling about random things all day. King was the first one to try and approach him, but Dark hadn't responded to any of his questions and eventually told him to “go chase yourself, you egg.”

Eventually, Wilford was dragged in by the Jim twins, whom Dark also hadn't recognised. As soon as Dark laid eyes on Wilford, however, he immediately stumbled over to his old friend. "Colonel! Oh, how long has it been? I've missed you, old friend." Wilford stumbled backwards at the title, eyes going wide. The other egos in the room quieted, following the conversation closely. It wasn't often they got to know more about Dark and Wilford's past. Wilford quickly recomposed himself and approached the rambling man, strangely quiet. He flinched when Dark grabbed his wrist and took a moment to collect himself. "Dark?" The man in question furrowed his brows, before saying "Who- who's Dark? M'name's Damien?" His speech was slurred, as if he was drunk, and his eyes were glazed over. Wil sucked in a breath through his teeth and guided Dark to the couch. This was going to be fun.

"Dar- Damien?" The being looked up at that, cocking his head to indicate he was listening. Wilford continued, concealing his slur as much as possible. He was Wilford, but if he had to be William for his friend then so be it. "How much sleep have you gotten in the last few weeks?" Dark looked down. "I- I can't quite recall. It must've been more than 8 hours, surely it was." Will didn't think he was supposed to hear the last part. He sighed, brushing Dark's hair out of his face and into the style Damien had always worn it in. It was a bit messy without the buckets of gel Damien always put in it, but it would do.

"Will?" Dark's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Who- who're all these people? Where-" Wilford was about to come up with some answer that would be acceptable in the '20s when he was silenced by the delusional man's next words.

"You- you know I love you right? I- I told you that, right? Did I? I'm afraid I can't- can't quite recall."

Wilford blushed profusely. He had to admit, his memory wasn't the best either, but he was quite certain he'd have remembered a confession from his best friend. His _male_ best friend. "Oh, uh, _bully-_ I don't think I've had the honour of hearing you confess, Dames." Dark narrowed his eyes at him.

"No, that's- that's right. I was planning to- but then you- Celine-" Tears began to form in his eyes as he recalled the heartbreak he'd felt that day. It had been three- no, two, no- "What year's it?" William opened his mouth to say something but closed it again immediately after. Strange. Will always knew what date it was. Or was that him? He didn't remember. He heard footsteps behind him, and turned around to face- _himself?_ No, that wasn't quite right. The newcomer didn't have an emblem on his suit, and he wore glasses. Glasses that seemed way too modern. He turned back and buried his face in William's chest. The military man would protect him. He could feel his heartbeat quickening when William said a stranger's name. "Bim, not now. He, uh, just needs me at the moment." _Bim._ He'd never come across a Bim before, but Will seemed to know him. Upon realising this he relaxed a bit in William's grip (when had he put his arms around him?) and mumbled an apology. Will chuckled. "Don't you worry about it, Dames." He patted him on the head, making the Mayor blush in embarrassment (and also something else, but it wasn't like he'd ever admit that). The stranger backed off, making space for another person.

He was wearing white.

And a head mirror.

Damien found himself screwing his eyes shut as the doctor, as he had concluded, put his hand on his forehead. When he opened his eyes again, the doctor was shaking his head. "No fever. Must be sleep deprivation." He looked the Mayor in the eyes before continuing. "He seems to be hallucinating, but I think those are fading." Damien narrowed his eyes. _Hallucinating?_ He looked at Wil- William? He felt as though there was something he was forgetting, but couldn't seem to place what. He gasped when instead of the military uniform he was used to, the Colonel was wearing his yellow shirt and _pink_ suspenders. He swore those hadn't been there a second ago. He groaned and put his hands to his head. He needed clarity, but his mind didn't seem to allow it. "What- Will, what year is it? Please _answer_ me." He was desperate. Will was currently what felt like his only connection to reality. William seemed conflicted, but eventually sighed and gave him the clarity he'd been looking for so desperately. "It's 2019, Damien."

The man in question let out a shaky laugh. "What- no, you're- you're joking, right? It's- it's 1925 right? Tell me I'm right, _please_." He let out a desperate sob, unable to _comprehend_. The doctor from before said something to his beloved, and next thing he knew he was being carried out of the room full of strangers, and into his own. Something was off. His room wasn't this dark. His room was dimly lit at all times. _Where was he? _When Will was about to dump him on the bed, he started struggling. He would not be put here in this _strange_ room, with these _strange_ people, in this _strange_ place.

Wil let out a shriek as he dropped Dark unto the floor, the latter immediately sauntering out the door. Wilford sighed and went after him, shouting his name in the meantime.

He'd gotten away, it pained him but he'd gotten away. Now he just needed to make sure these strangers didn't find him. Maybe he could find a telephone somewhere, maybe he could call Celine- she wouldn't hesitate to come save him from this _madness_. He burst through the door but halted when he was met by woods. He hated them, but he couldn't remember why. He sighed and kept going, praying he wouldn't get stray too far from the right direction.

He should've brought his cane.

He was still in the woods, and his leg had started to protest. He was now limping, trying to avoid falling. He knew that if he fell, he wouldn't be able to get up again.

Of course, he fell.

He knew he was screwed the moment he felt his foot get caught in a branch. He shouted as he fell to the ground, bringing his hands to the front of his face to shield it from the dirt. He stayed there, breathing uneven as pain shot through his spine and leg.

After what he guessed was 30 minutes, he heard people approaching. He hoped and prayed to god it was William and the others coming to look for him. When they reached the little clearing Damien had fallen down in, he heard one set of footsteps start to run. They were heavy and quick, and he sobbed in relief when he recognised them to be William's. "Whoa there, friend, calm down. We're here. You're safe." William spoke reassurances to him as he lifted him off the ground, carrying him as if he were an injured child. Will kept reassuring him the entire way back, and the Mayor was sound asleep by the time they reached the manor.

The next day Dark awoke in his bed. He tried to remember the events from the day before, but only vague memories of a forest surfaced. He shot upright when he realised Wilford was sitting in a chair in front of his bed, sleeping with Dark's cane in his hands. He got out, feeling surprisingly refreshed. He supposed it made sense, as he hadn't slept a lot recently, and he was in dire need of a good night's rest. He groaned when he registered the dull pain in his leg. He'd need his cane today. He apologised silently as he quickly grabbed his cane from Wilford's hands, and was relieved to see the pink man hadn't stirred.

Something was off. Everyone had been avoiding him, and when he did manage to catch one of them and ask them what happened, Bim had only told him to "ask Wilford." He found himself moping around in the living room when said pink man burst in through the door. "DAMIE- oh you're here. Thank god." Dark raised an eyebrow, and his aura flared. "Damien?" He scowled. "You must be mistaken." Wilford's eyes went wide before he sighed in relief. "Oh thank god, you're back to your grumpy ol' self. I don't think I could handle another runaway attempt today." Dark narrowed his eyes at this. "Runaway?" Wilford giggled and sat down on the couch, next to the man who'd professed his love for him in this exact spot just a day before.

"Darkie, you _would not believe_ the shit you got up to yesterday."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually kinda proud of this! Also this derailed a whole lot lol  
I didn't plan on Dark running away or confessing to Wilford, or switching the POV at all. All of those things happened, oops
> 
> Also, the slang in the beginning ("Go chase yourself, you egg.") is from the 1920's
> 
> Go chase yourself: "Get out of here!"  
Egg: a person who leads an absurdly wealthy, extravagant lifestyle.


End file.
